


Mission Improbable.

by allmypanties



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Other, Wat?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 06:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmypanties/pseuds/allmypanties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Varric gets a jones for honey cakes. Drunken shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission Improbable.

Maker knew what time it was. Of course, the trio of drunken friends hardly cared, having decided that honey cakes were in order.

Oh, the -mess- they’d left! Flour -everywhere-, smudged on Anders’ pale cheeks like warpaint, covering Fenris’ markings and leaving him looking pale and rather giddy, and Varric as though he’d aged -quite- well, streaks of it in his golden mane, and speckled about his glorious chest hair.

Honey cakes were, of course, an art form, and Varric had finally pried the recipe from the cute elf girl who sold them near the Viscount’s Keep. It had taken months, and plenty of persuading, but Varric, he was tricksy, and who was she to deny his many, many charms?

Of course, such a solemn undertaking required booze, and plenty of it. Hehe. Several bottles, tankards, cups, and bowls full of every sort of liquor one could wish for, they had a kitchen miraculously full of honey cakes, soft and crumbly, sweet and luscious. Varric had already eaten nearly a dozen of his own accord, Anders and Fenris rather full and tipsy.

“Y’know. We would be -cruel- not to share this wealth.” Varric took another swig of mead, wriggling his eyebrows in a mischievous manner.

 

Anders hiccuped, swaying on his feet. A man in his condition, lean to the point of malnourishment, tall and lanky and oh-so-active, could not handle copious amounts of liquor without becoming quite drunk quite quickly.

“Oh? Izza..Izzybuh..SHE can’t have any.”

Fenris snorted into his tankard of ale, shaking his head. “I can handle cruel. Let’s eat them all.” The elf had plenty of practice being drunk, though little of being so with friends. It was an odd sensation, and to be quite frank, a welcome one. He was tired of drinking alone. Besides, Anders was a chatty drunk, and this was a prime opportunity to pick up new, friendly blackmail material.

Varric had a gleam in his eyes, that usually meant trouble. Presumably hilarious trouble, but ever so often, troubling trouble.

“I have an idea, gentlesers.” His lips curled into a wicked, wicked little smirk, and within a ten mile radius, panties flung themselves out of drawers for no apparent reason.

A boot was thrown down the stairs, Garret standing in naught but a sheet at the top, proud fuzzy little man he was..

“Stop smirking, Varric. Some of us are trying to have sex.” A huff, tapping his toes impatiently.

“S’not hiiiis fault it almost made you eja-ejacuh..cum.”

“Shut it, Anders.”

Fenris laughed, as Varric merely flicked his wrist at the nearly nude Hawke. “Don’t let me stop you, Garret!” A little huff from the be-toweled fellow, as he turned on heel and slammed his door clean shut. Hmph.

“Well. Now that THAT’S over with..” Varric snorted, shaking his head.

“Jus-jus-juss tell us, Varric!” A wild swing of Anders’ spindly arms, a giggle escaping his lips.

“As I was saying, gentlesers. I have a dare for you, if you will. Seeing as how cruel it would be to keep all these moist little treats to ourselves..” A grin, quirked and wonderous, teeth glinting wetly in the candlelight. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to deliver a flat dozen of these to the Arishok, unscathed and without detection.”

“Whut?” Anders blinked up from his cup, wobbling slightly.

“You’re joking.” Fenris quirked a brow at Varric, taking another heady sip of brew before setting it gently on the table. “And crazy. You’re a nutter. Were you aware?”

Varric’s grin widened. Oh, oh yes. He was the nuttiest nutter, and this? Would prove most entertaining. “If you don’t think you can do it, of course..”

Anders gave a little squawk of indignation, flailing his arms as he fell flat on his back.Fenris merely lifted his cup up, gulping up the last dregs. “Let’s go, Mage.”

A few minutes, and several pink satin bows later, the pair had a lovely basket filled to the brim with the sweet treats, war paint re-smudged on.

Fearsome, no?

The streets of Kirkwall were easy. It was going to be going through the docks unnoticed that could be an issue. Or several, large horned issues.

“Stop singing.”

“I-I-I-can’t HELP it! We need t’have a song! We’re like th’heroes of old! With cakes. I like cakes.” Anders giggled, swishing the basket about.

“Stop that! You’ll muddle the cookies, and then we’ll lose.”

“Ffsh. You’re too grumpy. Loosen up!” Anders pinched at Fenris’ cheeks, getting swatted at in return.

“I will not. We’ve got a job to do. Now, sh.” Just about the corner was their destination, and two very large guards. Fuck!

“Right. You distract them, I’ll sneak.” Because Fenris was good at sneaky, and Anders was very distracting. It fit, no?

“Oh-ohkay! I can..I can do that.” A blinding grin as he forked over the goodie basket, and the blonde was running out into the street, stripping his clothes off.

..Not quite what Fenris had in mind, but he -did- take a moment to admire the view from behind. Mmh.

Ahem.

It took everything he had not to burst into laughter as he snuck into the compound’s door. Anders, that silly, drunken man, had taken to shaking his ah. Assets. Wildly.

“I am the prettiest princess,” he crooned, hips gyrating in a manner that would make both Garret and Isabela lob sovereigns at the poor man.

Right. In. He was in. Sneaking silently through the Qunari, like a sneaky sneaker. He creeped silently through the shadows, like a cat. Er. The quiet, slightly creepy cats, not the ones who demand attention and sleep on one’s face.

The basket was deposited unceremoniously just to the side of the Arishok’s seat, and he? Was out. No need to linger, no need to be stabbed by pointy goat men of tall. Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

“There you are, pumpkin.” The elf scooped up his partner in crime, and the sovereigns that he’d accumulated, guiding him towards the stairs that led to Lowtown.

“Shh. I’ma princess. You hafta, hafta to what I say.”

Fenris planted his hand firmly over Anders’ face. “Shh.” A not so convincing, charming little smile. “Thank you for minding him.”

Whew.

Upon reaching Hawke’s estate, however, a very strange sight greeted the duo, who had spent their journey congratulating one another on how very clever they were, and how pretty a princess Anders really was.

Varric lay atop the table in the kitchens, sprawled, his sash untied, his trousers hanging from his hips. And there was not a scrap of honeycake to be seen.

“Nnh. No more cakes,” the dwarf groaned, rolling lazily onto his side. “I’ll just. Sleep here tonight, if you don’t mind.”

 

The next day, it was business as usual. Anders had a hangover. Fenris was being particularly reclusive, as he’d used up all his social skills for the next month. Varric, however, had none of these courtesies, as his lifestyle demanded interaction.

Today, it was Hightown. Peeking about for gossip, getting to know folk.. All in the day of Varric Tethras, to be sure.

Odd, though. There were an awful lot of Qunari in Hightown, for once, and they were surrounding the little stall that the cute little elf girl worked. Oh. Oh! A chuckle, eyeing the giants as they..smiled? What? No. Qunari didn’t smile. Or did they? Baked sweets were surely magic, and this? The proof.

He slipped up to the stall, flashing the girl an easy grin. “Hullo, Belle. How’s business?”

A little flurry of her hands. “Busy! Maker knows I’ve been baking all morning, but they keep coming back! With friends!” A sigh, the girl looking harried, but happy. “Varric, you dear. Have one on me, would you?”

His stomach gave a little worble. “Ah, no. I think I’ll pass this time, Belle.”

“Just as well, I suppose. I’m not sure how I’m going to keep up!”


End file.
